My Godson, Harry
by pamela1967
Summary: Sirius' POV from Prison of Azkaban.  Sirius enters Gryffindor tower and sees Harry for the first time since he was a baby.


This is my very first fanfiction so please be gentle. This is a story from Sirius' POV from Prisoner of Azkaban as he enters Gryffindor tower in Chapter 13. I don't own Harry Potter.

**His Godson, Harry**

A Harry Potter Fanfiction

Stealth. An ability to move about Hogwarts castle undetected was something so engrained in Sirius Black that it was second nature, despite the fact it had been over 15 years since he had stepped foot inside. His first attempt to gain access to the Gryffindor tower was a disaster and he had mentally chided himself for letting his anger get in the way of reason. Of course the Fat Lady wouldn't let him in the common room! Why did he lose control that way? Now the entire staff was forewarned that he was in the area! DAMN! He should NOT have lost his temper! But the idea that that little scum was sleeping in a warm bed, cared for as a pampered pet and able to see Harry every day caused him to explode in anger when the Fat Lady, obviously terrified, had denied him entrance.

Harry.

James's boy.

Sirius was torn apart at the thought that he had missed so much of Harry's life. He knew that Harry would be sent to his aunt's house and he prayed that the woman had treated him well. But in his heart, he knew that Harry hadn't the kind of upbringing that Lily and James had hoped for. After all, they had named _him _godfather because they knew he loved Harry almost as much as they did. He wondered several times over the last dozen years whether or not Remus was allowed to be a part of Harry's life or if Petunia would ban anything involving magic.

As a dog, he slunk low along the corridors of the castle till he came to the portrait. Staying low against the wall in the deep shadows, Sirius considered the common room door. Instead of the Fat Lady's portrait, there was a portrait of a small knight. Transforming back into a man, he crept closer. Recognizing the knight, he had to work hard to keep the bark of laughter down. Sir Cadogan! Of all the portraints, they choose Sir Cadogan! This might be easier that he thought! Stepping out of the shadows, he strode purposefully up to the portrait.

"Stand and Fight, you mangy…"

"Scurvy Cur."

Sir Cadogan was momentarily caught flat footed. "I beg your pardon?"

Sirius looked down at the small paper in his hand, "Scurvy Cur." Glancing back up at the portrait, he added, "That _IS_ the password, isn't it?"

"Indeed it is, Good Sir!" said the knight, gallantly. And bowed as he opened the portrait hole.

Sirius stepped through the hole. He was momentarily stunned as he looked around the achingly familiar room. It hadn't changed! Even the chairs were the same. He walked over to the squashy armchair that had been his favorite and fought the urge to sit. If he did, his exhaustion might just cause him to fall asleep and that was the last thing he needed. No. He had a job to do!

Ascending the spiral staircase, he slipped out the knife from his pocket and withdrew it from it's sheath. Reading each sign as he passed the different boy's dormitories, he stopped outside the door with the sign indicating, "Third Years". His heart hammering madly, he took a few calming breaths and reminded himself why he was here. Slowly he pushed the door open, stepped through and gently closed it behind him.

Five boys were sound asleep in their four-poster beds. Gryffindor ties and scarves were haphazardly tossed over trunks and chairs. Posters of quidditch teams and, to his amusement, a football team were posted around the walls of the room. Must be a Muggle-born boy to put up a football poster.

He stood there for several minutes trying to decide where he should look first. Since the photo in the paper where he first saw Peter sitting on the boy's shoulder was of the boy's entire family, he was going to assume that the Muggle-born was not who he was looking for. He crept to the next bed. A shock of sandy-colored hair told him that it wasn't this boy either. The next bed held a round-faced boy snoring slightly. He stopped and stared in shock. Alice Longbottom! This must be her son because he looked so much like her!

Heart hammering wildly, he advanced on the next bed. A flicker of movement caused him to hold up, stock still. Then he realized that the movement was from a wizarding photo on the boy's nightstand. It was the only photo around this boy's bed.

James and Lily.

Sirius starred at the photo for a long time remembering the day it was taken. The day _he _took that photo. James and Lily were bundled up in their winter clothes and James was twirling Lily around joyfully. She had just told him that, come the next summer, he was going to be a father. Sirius watched them, his heart aching. Denied any personal items at Azkaban, he had no photographs to look at. The only photos of his dearest friend and his family were from his memory. Faced with dementors, day and night, the most predominate image he would see was of their bodies in the wreckage of their house.

Being members of the Order of the Phoenix, they knew that there was a possibility that they wouldn't survive. But on the day of this photo, their only thought was of the future. Of their child. Sirius stood looking, filling the photo in his mind. Two different emotions raged through his heart: gut-wrenching sorrow and rage. Rage that the man who caused it all was probably sleeping in that very room!

But before he could look for Peter, he needed to see Harry. He was almost afraid to look at the boy in the bed. He had failed Harry. So miserably failed him.

He took one step closer and looked down at his sleeping godson. His stomach gave a lurch and twist. James! Oh how he looked like James! Of course, this was common knowledge when Harry was small that he looked like his father. But the baby face with the shock of black hair was one thing. This teenager was another! It was as if James had come back to life and became 13 again. A quick glance back at the nightstand revealed that there was a pair of black, wire rim glasses. Round the way James's were.

A sudden noise shock Sirius from his reverie. The next bed's occupant had shifted and a small furry face poked out from under the bedcurtains that had been halfway drawn around the sleeping boy. Squeeking in terror, the rat had scurried back under the curtains. Face to face with the man who he hated as much as he hated Voldemort, Sirius completely forgot about being stealthy. With a roar of rage, he leaped toward the bed and slashed his knife against the curtains. Grabbing them, he roughly tore them from their posts.

! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Realizing that he had ruined his chance, he ran for the dormitory door. He heard another boy ask, "What's going on?" He slammed the door quickly and descended the staircase in a run.

Running out through the portrait hole, he ducked into the shadows, transformed himself into his dog form and skirted the wall to one of the many secret passages. He quickly reoriented himself and started toward one of the passages leading to the grounds.

'Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!' raged Sirius to himself. 'You come in with a plan to kill the little vermin and you screwed it up again!' Over and over in his mind, he just couldn't believe he'd messed up again!

Not stopping his dead run till he was well outside and near the forbidden forest. He slowed as he reached the trees and flumped to the ground panting. Looking back at the castle, he saw that every light was on in Gryffindor tower. Soon light could be seen flickering throughout the castle.

Sighing deeply, he rested his head on his paws. He had, indeed, messed up again. No doubt, he would not be able to get near the portrait hold again. But the night wasn't total waste.

He saw Harry.

With that image in his mind, he allowed sleep to creep over him.

His godson. Harry.


End file.
